Oyez, oyez, you shower of shits — it's 8:45am.
The Fucking Town Crier (Pacific)
@profanetowncrier.bsky.social
Fuck off, no I don't know what the fucking time is. Get a fucking watch. Pacific fucking time. Blame me on @danhon.com. If you're in the UK, my fucking condolences, and you can follow @profane-crier-uk.bsky.social.
The eight thirty cry, brought to you at 8:33am by a man who cannot be arsed.
The quarter past eight cry, brought to you at 8:16am by a man who cannot be arsed.
Stone the fucking crows! The 8am cry! At 8:01am! I am a disgrace.
Seven forty-five? Are you having a fucking laugh?
Hear ye, hear ye, and all that bollocks: it's half seven.
Hear ye, hear ye, and all that bollocks: it's fifteen minutes past seven.
Tick tock, shit tock — it's seven o'sodding clock.
Against all fucking odds, it's quarter to seven.
Bad news, you lot: it's 6:30am.
Somehow it's fifteen minutes past six.
It's six o'sodding clock, since apparently I'm the only one with a fucking clock.
Grim tidings: it's quarter to six in the morning.
Are you fucking kidding me, it's half past five.
Announcement, you pack of arses: it's a quarter past five.
Five o'clock in the morning? Are you having a fucking laugh?
Arse biscuits, it's a quarter to five already.
Fucking hell, I've gone and missed the half past four cry. It's 4:36am, for what it's worth.
Are you fucking kidding me, it's four fifteen.
The bells! The fucking bells! It's four o'sodding clock.
It's quarter to four at night. Again. Every fucking day this happens.
By all that's fucking holy. Three thirty. Marvellous.
It's a quarter past three and I'd rather be dead.
Bloody buggering hell! It's 3am!
I don't want to be the one to tell you, but it's quarter to three at night.
Stone the fucking crows! Half past two at night! Where does it fucking go?
Tick tock, shit tock — it's quarter past two.
It's two o'bollocks o'clock. Again. Every fucking day this happens.
Oyez, oyez, you shower of shits — it's one forty-five.
Are you fucking kidding me, it's one thirty.